Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Power never disappears. It only changes address.
Wear something warm. That was the sum total of my instructions from Donn.
Rebecca fussed with my oversized scarf arranged over my oversized black sweater.
She twisted her lips at the soft pink boots that I tucked my leggings into.
I wasn’t trying to seduce; I was aiming to remind a god that I was not the woman for him while still fulfilling my oath and saving the world.
Easy peasy, made more comfortable by squishy footwear.
Maybe if I wore heels, we could wrap this up tonight and not need three dates. I turned to the peanut gallery propping up the walls surrounding me. “What do you think?”
Sebastian lifted a brow. “It’s a good thing your mate is conveniently engaged in a strange shifter situation which requires his attendance at the pack house.”
“Hudson knows he has my heart. He trusts me.”
“Neither of those things are in doubt,” Aunt Liz said as she walked out of the kitchen with a bowl of chips in her hands. “But it doesn’t stop the green-eyed monster from rising.”
I pointed at her. “I resent that reference.”
Maggie swung her feet back and forth from her perch on the reception table. “Think of it like this. If we told you Hudson was going on a non-romantic, please trust me date with Mercy, how would you feel?”
My chest tightened. “Fair point.” I hated it when the teenagers made sense. Nothing was more humbling.
“Then don’t be surprised to find a furious mate when you come home,” Rebecca said with a wink. “Remember, bath salts and a good pillow are your friends.”
A knock saved me from wherever that advice had come from. I spun and yanked open the door, ready for my date with… Robert?
Wait, what?
“Sheriff?” It was never a good sign when White Castle’s chief of law enforcement darkened my door.
“Miss Roberts,” he said with a trademark nod and hat tip that made the women behind me sigh with appreciation.
“What can I do for you?”
“Actually, it’s not a business call. I’m here to speak to Maggie.”
All eyes shot to the bobcat shifter, who had silently leaped behind the reception table and ducked under it. We could still see the top of her brunette curls. “I see,” I drawled. “She seems to be engaged with the floor right now. Can I take a message?”
Rebecca dug her hand into the bowl of chips still being held by Aunt Liz.
Robert’s eyes darted from Maggie’s head to me. “Sure, please tell her the cookies she made for the station were gratefully received, and given the peril going on in the world right now, I’d be most grateful if I could order another batch for, you know, staff morale.”
Maggie made cookies for the station? When? What type? I swear that girl baked magic into them. “I’ll be sure to pass that on. Any particular type?”
Robert licked his lips like he was thinking about tasting more than Maggie’s cookies. Oh no, no, no, no. He was like, what? Ten years her senior? Was that legal?
“I’m partial to the white chocolate and raspberry ones myself.”
“Noted. Berries and cocoa beans.” I moved to the left, blocking his line of sight. “I’ll get Dave or Hudson to drop them around.”
“Or I can pick them up.”
I parked my hands on my hips just as the air shifted, and a god stepped out of the shadows.
Robert glanced over his shoulder and then back at me with an arched brow.
He definitely had the calm disposition that Maggie would need from a partner, but I was clueless where this little connection even began.
Did I miss speed dating night? On account of all the supernatural drama, I could be forgiven for forgetting it.
“Who are you?” Robert asked as he scanned Donn up and down.
The god of death was clothed in what I think passed for casual wear. He seemed to have discovered the joy of denim and the roll-neck sweater, in his on-brand all black.
Donn frowned at Robert. “The god of death. You?”
“Sheriff.”
“I see. Cora, are you ready for our date?”
“Wait, you and Hudson broke up? I’m sure I got an invitation to your wedding just this week.”
The invitations were out? Well, he knew more than me, like the date of my impending nuptials. Before the panic of a coordinated and highly attended event where I was the center of attention took hold, I opted for the less terrifying event of a date with death.
“No, we didn’t break up,” I said as I moved past Robert. “This is a work thing.”
Dark tendrils kissed the air around Robert, who didn’t flinch.
“Is this another of your suitors?” Donn asked. He made me sound like a complete hussy. I didn’t have many suitors. I had a growly, slightly psychotic mate and a pushy god who thought dates in cemeteries were the pinnacle of a romantic encounter.
“Nope, no more suitors for me,” I said, pressing my hand to Donn’s chest and guiding him away from my home.
“So he’s a colleague?” Robert said. He wasn’t letting this go. “Does Hudson know?”
I turned on my heel and glared at the sheriff, who was in danger of being added to my shit list. “He is the literal god of death who is leaking power into my grandmother, who, as you know, is starting a war that you and your little band of troopers have absolutely no hope of surviving. So he’s blackmailing me into dating him in exchange for weakening her. ”
“You’re offering your body in payment for power?” Robert snapped.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. What was it with the men around here? “No, I am sacrificing my time and a little of my soul to save the damn world. I don’t see you doing anything to help.”
Robert folded his arms and lifted a brow. “Nobody told you to do this.”
Why was he challenging me about something he had no clue about? Oh. Oh. “Naughty, naughty, Sheriff. Sorry, you’ll have to inform your new shifter bestie and my mate that you couldn’t delay me long enough.” I held my hand out to Donn. “Ready when you are.”
Donn smirked at the sheriff. “As my lady demands.”
Not helping, Donn. He took my hand, and the air folded.
One moment I was stepping onto the porch; the next, sound assaulted my ears and cold air slammed into me like a wall.
A swell of voices rose and fell in a single, thunderous rhythm, the noise vibrating through my bones. And there was yellow. So much yellow.
An arena stretched out before me, ice gleaming under brutal white lights, and burly padded players skated in tight, aggressive lines.
“What are we doing here?” I whispered.
Donn puffed out his chest. “I was advised that this was an optimal courting environment,” he said. “Shared tension. Ritualized violence. Communal screaming.”
I stared at him. “You brought me on a date to an ice hockey game?”
“Yes.”
“The Nashville Predators,” I read off the massive screen as the crowd erupted. The world was ending, and people were still attending sporting events. Why? Who knows? To feel connected, maybe.
Donn grinned. “Exactly. Predators,” he repeated. “They announce it openly.”
“It’s a name.”
“It’s bold, honest,” he decided with a clasping of a fist over his heart.
“I was offered elevated experience seating,” Donn said as we sat close enough to the ice that I could see the condensation on the glass, close enough to hear the skates carve the surface. “The nosebleeds.”
“And?”
“While I appreciated the optional violence, I thought the softer touch was more appropriate for tonight.”
I snorted before I could stop myself. Poor Donn, thinking nosebleed seats meant actual nose bleeds.
A player slammed into the boards directly in front of us, the impact echoing like a gunshot. The crowd screamed with delight.
Donn leaned forward, eyes bright. “Ah. The optional violence add-on experience. I paid extra for this.”
“You paid?” I hissed.
“I value immersion.”
The puck dropped. Chaos erupted, and Donn followed the movement with rapt concentration, gaze tracking the players like prey animals. When the Predators scored, the arena exploded.
Donn clapped once, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Excellent strike. Clean. Minimal suffering.”
I stared at him. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I approve of honesty in violence.”
A fight broke out. Gloves hit the ice. Bodies collided… and the crowd lost its collective mind.
Donn rose to his feet, delighted. “Yes.”
A referee skated over and escorted a player off.
Donn gasped. “They have a designated shame enclosure,” he breathed as the ref sent the player to the sin bin.
“Public isolation. Reflection time. Consequences.” Another Predator soon followed, and Donn pumped his fist. “They have both earned their time for their crimes.”
What was happening? How did I get here? Was it too late to opt for the candlelit picnic surrounded by the dead?
When the penalty ended, his expression soured. “Too short. Growth requires extended discomfort. They won’t learn if the consequences aren’t real. A broken bone or two should underscore the point.”
“Please never run a justice system,” I muttered. “But now that we’re on the topic of what is owed, I need to hurry this power removal along.”
“Impatience is a sin,” Donn advised.
I scowled at him. So was watching the world go up in flames.
“You severed your bloodline with Eloise,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she was leeching power from the Roberts magic, and I wanted to cut her off.” True, but not the whole truth.
He hummed. “It’s unexpected, and changes how this is going to work, Cora.”
“How?”
“That power has to go somewhere.”
I picked apart his words and tried to understand what he was warning me about. The second period started, and the noise surged again.
Donn leaned closer, his voice calm amid the chaos as his shadows curled around my ankles. “But as you insist on jumping the gun, this will hurt.”
My breath caught. “Donn—”